Black Magic
by CalgaryCowgirl
Summary: Lindsay found out that Mac played bass at Cozy's night club every Wednesday night, but she never did discover why he went there in particular. Something at that club kept pulling Mac back to it, and it wasn't just the music. Mac/OC


_**Ok, there are nowhere near enough MAC/OC relationships in this world, particularly for a man that yummy. I love Mac and am currently in the process of purchasing him from **__**Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS. So until that happens, I own nothing save for my character which may NOT be used without my consent.**_

_**This is just a little one-shot (Might end up becoming a story if my fancy takes it that way) about why I think Mac goes to play bass at Cozy's. WARNING!! This might be a little OOC for him. By the way, if anyone can email me and tell me exactly how long Mac and claire were married, I would appreciate it.**_

* * *

There, it was going to be all over the lab now. Mac smiled ruefully as he spotted his colleagues, Lindsay Munroe and Daniel Messer in the applauding crowd. It was really only a matter of time before they found out about his little hobby, his Wednesday night trips to Cozy's to play bass. They were the best team of CSI's he'd ever worked with after all. And to be honest, he'd made it pretty easy to figure out, going to a club so close to his apartment and all. It might have taken them longer if he had decided to patron someplace like Iridium or Birdland, and had very often found himself considering those options... but just as quickly found he couldn't bring himself to do it.

As his eyes roved over the crowded bar, Mac's smile softened, his mind lighting on the one reason he kept coming back here. He hoped Lindsay and Danny hadn't figured that part of it out yet. It wasn't that he didn't want them to ever know... he just didn't want them to know just yet. He would tell them in time, but it felt good having this little part of his life all to himself. It was his secret, one that not even Stella knew about, one that he wanted to stay his for a little while longer.

As the MC gave their guest saxophonist her props, Mac allowed his mind to wander. Glancing over at the lead guitarist, he remembered the day he had first experienced the force of nature that was that woman.

* * *

_Mac chuckled quietly as the audience continued to applaud even as the musicians all left their place on-stage for a ten minute break. Setting the bass down on its stand lovingly, he made his way over to the bar, sliding into a recently vacated spot. A rather large crowd had gathered since he'd arrived and the bar was packed with people from all walks of life. "A Root Beer please." He told the bartender who nodded before turning to someone at his side._

_"A Coke for me." The voice Mac heard had a low, musical quality to it, one that beckoned him to turn and learn more about the throat it issued from. He resisted the urge; he didn't really feel like talking today. "You've got a nice set of fingers man." The voice prompted again, and this time Mac gave into the temptation._

_"Thank you." He replied, turning to face the attractive woman at his side. Hair black as a crow's wing flowed over shoulders that were clad in a black dress shirt that opened to reveal a bright red tank. Scarlet lips curved up at the corners, forming a gentle smile as her legs, clad in dark blue jeans and black __heeled boots turned in his direction. But it was her eyes... she had eyes that could stop a man dead in his tracks, even a man like Mac Taylor. They were such a dark shade of blue they were almost black in color and there was a glimmer deep within them that called out to be explored, discovered... revealed. "Do you always chat up strangers in a club?"_

_The lips parted in a sly grin, revealing a set of snow-white teeth. "No, just the ones who play bass." Sticking out her hand, her grin widened. "Name's Sarah. Sarah Clarke."_

_Mac felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards slightly. "Mac Taylor." He replied, taking her hand. She gave his hand a firm shake, which he enjoyed. He felt the calluses one her fingertips rub gently against the side of his palm. "You play guitar?" he asked, knowing there were very few ways a woman could get calluses like that._

_Sarah nodded. "As well as fiddle and violin." She replied. "I work here as a bartender a few nights a week. Used to play on weekends only, but since my neighbour's started asking me to babysit; I've started to change my schedule." Nodding her thanks to the barkeep, she took a sip of her soda before she spoke again. "What about you?" she asked. "Why do you come here?"_

_Mac paused for a moment, considering his answer. "I come here for a release." He replied, not really sure why he was telling this to someone he barely knew. "The music helps put things into perspective for me, helps me deal with the rest of my life."_

_Sarah nodded, understanding perfectly. Glancing over at her companion, she noticed a tiny gleam of gold on his left hand. "How long have you been married?" she asked, surprised by her desire to learn more about the man at her side._

_She watched him freeze, his eyes shifting down to gaze at the little band of gold encircling his left ring finger. "I was married about four years... I'm not anymore."_

_He listened to the silence, sure that the next words out of her mouth were going to be 'I'm sorry.' People always seemed to apologise when he told them about Claire, he never understood why. He heard her blow out a slow breath before... "Mind if I ask when?" Her tone was soft, gentle, and... There was something there he couldn't place._

_"In the towers." He replied, his voice controlled as he forced himself to answer as he had done hundreds of times since the towers went down. "Claire worked in the North Tower. They still haven't found her." Mac sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing at the memories. Lowering his hand he took a deep drink from his glass, thankful there was no alcohol in his drink._

_He felt a hand come to rest on his wrist. Turning, he met her eyes, seeing in them a pain, not unlike his own. "Michelle, my twin sister, was in the south tower." She replied. "They haven't found her either... but I know she's gone. I've always known. I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for you." __A mournful, half-smile graced her face. "As painful as the loss was... at least I knew what I had lost. I'm sorry I brought it up."_

_"You couldn't have known." Shaking his head, Mac soldiered on. "Sometimes... sometimes I wonder what she was thinking as it happened. I catch myself wondering what she must have gone through." Mac stopped himself, feeling his throat constrict as it did every now and then when he went down this road of thought._

_"Don't." Sarah replied, pain lacing her voice. "Don't wonder Mac... It wasn't pretty." Mac watched tears spring to her eyes as she spoke. "You know that whole twin telepathy thing? Well Michelle and I had that... or whatever the hell you call it. We were real close throughout our whole lives, it's how I know she's gone." Mac watched silently as Sarah fought to control her tears. "I remember everything that happened in those last few moments. I was teaching a riding lesson out at the Edwin Gould Academy. Suddenly it's like I'm having a panic attack. I just felt my heart stop with fear that wasn't mine. I got snippets of thoughts, sights, sounds." Mac felt the hand on his wrist shudder as he watched her dive into memories she claimed weren't her own. "There was a moment I could have sworn I heard her tell me she loved me, even in the midst of all that horror and fear. And then... nothing. Just like that, she was gone." Her hand left his wrist, moving to wrap around herself as she struggled to rise above the ocean of her grief._

_Mac continued to watch her a moment, astonished to find another soul in this city who might be able to understand his pain. Here was a woman who had lost someone that was as close to her as Claire had been to him, maybe more so. He loved Claire more than anything, but Sarah had grown up with Michelle. Sarah had shared everything with her sister, down to their very DNA, if there was any stock in what she was telling him, Sarah might have even shared thoughts with her sister. Was that why he felt so drawn to her? The fact that she could understand his pain like no other person in his life could, not even Stella?_

_Mac set aside his glass and wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulder's, feeling the shivers ripple up her spine and through his arm. Turning to each other, the two said nothing to each other. What was there to say in a case such as this? They both knew any words they tried to utter would just be hollow pieces of nothingness in the shadow of what they wanted to say. And so they held their silence, leaning into each other, sharing their pain and giving what comfort they could to each other as the chaos of the crowd buzzed around them._

* * *

Alphonse de Lamartine once said, 'Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys'. And that was how it began for them, two hearts bonded over a common loss and a love of music created a firm friendship between the CSI and the bartender. They became a Wednesday night staple at Cozy's, Mac playing bass while Sarah's fingers elicited a myriad of emotions from the strings of her Peavey Predator electric guitar. It was somewhere between the riffs of BB King and Santana that he discovered Sarah lived not two blocks from him, kitty corner to the club. Since they had discovered that fact, she had taken to inviting him over after their performances were done, citing the fact that she really knew nothing about him save for the fact that he played bass.

Conversation came surprisingly easy in those nightly sessions. The two would sit and talk for hours. No topic was taboo between them. That wasn't to say there weren't things they didn't discuss. Mac would never share the details of his cases with her as per protocol and generally kept her in the dark as to his work in general. She respected his choice and never pressed him for details, the same way he would never ask her to discuss anything the other bar patrons ever discussed with her, unless said patron was doing something illegal. Thus far, neither had ever found a reason to break those rules.

He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but after a few months Mac found the tenor of their whole relationship changing ever-so-slightly. He found himself taking pleasure in discovering little things about her, like how she played guitar and pool with her left hand, but wrote with her right. Or like finding out her favourite color was blue, her favourite flowers were the red Camellias she and her grandmother had planted when she was nine, or that her eyes sparkled like sapphires when she laughed. He found himself taking moments to just watch her move about whatever apartment they happened to be in at the time, just observing her as she would load the dishwasher or make them coffee. It wasn't something he had caught himself doing since Claire had died and it bothered him... it made him feel like he was betraying her.

Sarah seemed to sense this, felt him pulling away and asked him about it. She was always one to be upfront about things and wasn't about to change for this. They had spent that night hashing it out, discussing him, her, them, Claire, everything. It was a long night.

He still remembered that gentle smile she had given him, the one that sent such a thrill though his heart, followed swiftly by guilt. "It's been four years Mac. You need to live again." She sat down next to him, watching him fight with his inner demons. "Claire was a big part of your life, but she wouldn't want you to cut yourself off from the world." He felt the pause more than he heard it, felt her considering her next words carefully. "I care about you Mac, and I think Claire would want you to be happier than you've let yourself be in the last few years." She took his hand gently in hers, startling him into locking gazes with her. "I'm not trying to take her place in your heart Mac. I just want the chance to make one of my own." She stroked the back of his hand gently with her thumb. "Will you let me?"

As the applause died down, Mac watched Sarah begin to sway in time with the next song, her foot tapping along to the beat as she closed her eyes with the sheer pleasure brought on by her favourite tune. He grinned softly as he plucked at his strings, watching as her slender hands danced over the black neck of her guitar, creating sounds of such longing, Mac felt it to his very core. He watched her lean up to the mike, revelling in the anticipation he felt every time she was about to sing.

"Got a black magic woman." Mac smiled as he listened to her sultry tones flow over the crowd. "Got a black magic woman, I've got a black magic woman, Got me so blind I can't see," she shot him a quiet look that was laden with meaning none-the-less. "That she's a black magic woman; she's tryin' to make a devil out of me." Sarah gave him the tiniest of winks before turning back to the crowd. This was how they were together and he found himself enjoying it more and more every day.

It had taken time for him to bring himself to let her in and he was still amazed that she had waited for him. For the time being, they were taking things day by day. She didn't expect much of him, just that he let her in, and she had said so to him. Slowly, he was finding it was becoming easier and easier to do that. He still wasn't about to go and deflate the beach ball in his closet... but neither was he going to let himself wallow in the past. Whether He and Sarah actually ended up working out... that remained to be seen, but for now, he was enjoying the journey.

After he finished his set, it took all of a minute for Lindsay to drag Danny to the stage to talk. Danny was in awe that his boss actually had a life outside of the lab. Mac had laughed at that, if only he knew. The two begged him to join them for drinks. "I don't know, it's getting pretty late." He said, turning to put his bass away. As he did, he caught Sarah's eye and she smiled. She nodded gently, silently telling him to go with his friends. He arched a brow at her, but she shook her head no, leaning her head towards the door. She was tired and was going to head back to her apartment. She would see him there. He gave her a small, but warm smile in response. It warmed his heart that they didn't even need to speak to know what the other was saying. Shrugging he turned back to his CSI's. "What the hell, I've got the day off tomorrow."

Lindsay beamed at Mac and pulled him to the table they had just vacated while Danny went to fetch a pitcher of beer. Mac only half-listened to the conversation, quietly watching Sarah gather her things out of the corner of his eye. As she moved around behind the backs of his two companions, he saw her wink at him again, that sultry smirk spreading over her face as she lifted her fingers in farewell. He loved that smile.

He watched her quietly slink out the door before he turned his attention back to Lindsay and Danny, who were now asking him where he learned to play. He'd be seeing her again soon, now he would enjoy this rare free evening with these two. But he would return to her company soon. She was a drug to him. He was addicted to his own black magic woman. And you know what...

He didn't care.


End file.
